


Birth

by howlingmary79



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlingmary79/pseuds/howlingmary79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson is pregnant of Holmes' baby</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Moods”

It had been a long day. The weather was unbearable, cold and wet, such a bad combination for my old wounds. I could feel a sharp pain in my leg and shoulder just whenever I had to take a step. This "weakness" has always been a shame for me.

I am physically what can be defined a strong and handsome man. After my return to London, I spent most of the day at my consulting room and the rest at our home, helping the most famous detective of London on his cases. I still can catch the attention of the ladies when I go out or walk along London's streets with my roommate, Sherlock Holmes. That fact never cease to amuse me and makes my friend a little jealous, although he would never admit it.

Lately, since our choice to have a family, he has became my shadow. He tries not to show it but he worries about my health and my well-being, feeling guilty (or so I see in his eyes when it happens) if I am just a little cold or tired. He fusses over me like dear Mrs. Hudson does, but he does not want to appear anxious or nervous, and I am trying to make him more comfortable about the whole situation, even if I often fail in my purpose.

§  
That evening, as I entered the main door at our address, I found two pairs of concerned eyes looking at me like I had grown a second head. 

"What does this mean?" I asked, growing uncomfortable at their worried faces. I had a very long day and the long and painful walk to home didn’t do any good to my temper. They looked at each other, unsure how to proceed, and I started feeling anxious about what kind of bad news had been delivered and they had to tell me.

"Holmes, would you please tell me what is going on?" I added.

Without a single word in answer, I was literally carried up to the living room upstairs by the mad man and placed on the couch like I was a very precious doll that you fear to broke in one million pieces, while Mrs. Hudson took my bag and my coat and put them in my room.

"Holmes!" I was almost shouting at him! "Put me down, I am perfectly capable of walking a few steps! Holmes!".

He just sighed, hugging me and holding onto me, like I am going to disappear.

I wanted to cry out or laugh at his strange behavior, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings so I managed to calm down and waited until my roommate released me from his embrace.

He sat on the couch next to me and, when he spoke, his voice was just a whisper. But it was clear enough for me to listen what the man had to say. 

"Lestrade was here a few hours ago, said he went to your consulting room but you weren’t there…"

My mind was beginning to register what the poor man had thought while I was away. I let him speak.

“You didn’t say where you were going and it was late in the afternoon . I thought…” He paused and got up from the couch and started pacing the room like a possessed man. 

Then he turned to me an angry look, but only for a second, because when he talked again I could see only pain and disbelief in his eyes. 

“God! Watson, do you know… Do you have any idea what you made me going through? I thought I have lost you!” he was almost shouting at me and I let him, he needed to let all the emotions running free after having had a terrible day. 

I would have done the same. “What the devil do you think you were doing? Pushing you so far? You are supposed to take it easy, not to go alone in the dark without a word. Now don’t look at me like I am acting a major drama, it was me that stayed here all afternoon wondering about you… and you clearly don’t know what time is it, otherwise you would not look at me that way!”

I was astonished by his outburst and could not find my voice to reply, seeing the most clever and famous detective in London on the verge of tears. That made me feel uncomfortable, because I was the reason for he was hurting right now. But still I didn’t know what time was it (Holmes was right). I had a glance at the clock and yelped in surprise and shock finding out it was almost 10 in the night. No wonder my friend was so terribly angry at me!

For he was calmer now, and sat next to me again. He took my hands in his trembling ones and spoke again. And again I was at loss for words, so I waited for him to continue. 

“John, please, don’t do that again!”. The anger was gone and I could see now how much he cared for me, for us! How much he loved me! Sometimes I think I don’t deserve him! I tried to reassure him as best as I can.

“What were you thinking?” he asked then. His voice was soft and gentle. He was still clutching my hand. Someway, I could find my voice to answer him.

“ I swear, Holmes, I didn’t know it was so late. I had to visit a patient just a few blocks far from my office and it seemed to me a great occasion to have a little walk. I needed some fresh air anyway. Then, when I was finished, I thought I could come back home without calling a cab. The night was cold and wet, yes, but I enjoyed my previous walk so I decided to go on foot. I was wrong” I admited with a weary smile to my friend, “because after a while my leg started to ache and I was only half way home. I wanted to call a cab then, but I could not find one. Sometimes I paused on my way, so to let my leg to rest. I guess it took me much more time than usual to come home. I am really sorry Holmes!” 

“My dear Watson, I am so glad you are here! You scared me to death today, please don’t do that again.” He simply stated, to end the argument.

“Forgive me if I made you worry!” I said. I felt tears in my eyes, and I turned my head away from him. I didn’t want him to see me crying. I suppose the pregnancy was affecting me in many ways: the persistent pain in my back, the fact that I easily got tired and the nauseas. But what I regretted more is that I often felt like crying without any reasons.

“Of course I do, my dear fellow! So, tell me, are you two hungry?” he placed a gentle hand on my stomach again, and I felt so safe and loved that, despite my effort, a single tear run down my cheek. Holmes gently brushed it away with his long fingers. “Mrs. Hudson made what you should define a wonderful soup, if you want to try…” he said.

“I can try, Holmes, but I’m not sure it will stay down for long. But I guess I cannot pretend to solve the nausea problem simply by stop eating, so… “ I answered with a weary smile.

“I’ll go call Mrs. Hudson!” he disappeared down the stairs and returned after a few minutes with the landlady, who was carrying a tray with a delicious soup and toast with butter.

The good lady knew me very well and did her best to please me. While I was consuming my late dinner, Holmes pretended to be busy with some sort of research and left me quiet. When I was finished, I sat near the fireplace (I was a little cold) wondering what the man was doing; after some minutes, he sat in the other armchair next to me with a smile and announced me that his research was finished and now he knew. 

“You know what exactly, Holmes?” I asked him.

“I thought you have guessed by now Watson!” he replied, with amusement. 

“I am sorry, I have no idea what you’re speaking about!”

“Well, I am more than happy to inform you that I have made many researches in these days and now I know, without any doubts, the sex of our creature! Oh, I can see my little boy hanging around with his little hands and those eyes… “ he sighed and look at me.

“I am sorry to inform you, detective, that no one knows about the sex of the babies before their birth. It is just impossible to physicians to determine it. But I am sure it will be a SHE, Holmes.” We performed this game before (arguing about nonsense!) and, as usual, we didn’t come to any logical conclusions, but we both loved these kind of situations. 

After a short while, the soup took his revenge on me and I had to leave the fireplace to empty my stomach. Holmes was more than kind to me, offering comfort while I waited for the nausea to pass and then helping me to undress and going to bed. The nausea and the long day made me feel exhausted. The warm of the bed and the loving look on Holmes face was the best way to end a day, even if not a perfect day for what I had dome to him. 

“Will you stay here for a while?” I found myself asking.

“Where else do I have to go, my dear? It is in my bed you are sleeping in, after all!” he kissed me lightly on my forehead. “You had a long day, now close your eyes and get some sleep.” 

I think I fell asleep in less than five minutes holding Holmes hand. 

I was carrying Holmes’ baby. Life was beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

“The cottage” 

1 month later

I had been thinking about it for some times, but I was not sure how to break the news to Holmes. Being a doctor, it was easier for me to think in a certain way. He was not, of course he had a brilliant mind, but this particular “subject” was something so very far from his daily matters that I doubted he would take my suggestion seriously. But indeed I had to talk to him, I could not wait anymore. Weeks were passing fast and I was started to show my condition. It was really necessary to take some decisions. I hoped he was in the right mood, because I was very nervous and my last intention was to put on a verbal fight with him.

Taking a deep breath, I entered the sitting room finding Holmes reading the newspaper. 

“Good Morning, Watson!” he greeted me happily. “What took you so long? I have great news for you!”

“Good Morning to you too, Holmes!” I replied, taking time. “Good news for me? Well, please let me know!”

“My dear Watson, I noticed that lately you’ve worked a lot despite my suggestions to slow down a bit and also that your back is causing you some trouble. And I guess nausea is not helping too. So I have decided to take you on holiday for a while, and since next week it will be 4 months you are pregnant, we can celebrate the event. My brother Mycroft has a beautiful cottage in the country near Bath, we would go there and relax and have some times for ourselves. What do you think? It is a great occasion, for there is also a kind of flower exhibition, I think you’ll like it.” He smiled back at me, waiting for my answer and obviously thinking I would have agreed to his idea.

That, of course, was a great idea. He was right, I worked too much in the last three weeks and a holiday was most welcome. I could imagine the beautiful countryside and the delicious little cottage, surrounded by green grass and bushes of pink and blue hydrangea, and the small path made of stones to the little door. And the inside of the cottage, that was amazing! And I could see Holmes taking care of me and loving me. So powerful this fantasy was that a lump formed in my throat and I stared at him without words. I could not help but cry. I cried on his shoulder and let him holding me for I didn’t know how long. When I felt a little better, I thanked him.

“I’d love to spend some time alone with you, you know. Thank you for being here for me!” 

“I guess that is a Yes, then! We will have a beautiful holiday, my dear! And we could talk about the question that bothers you so much, too.” he stated.

After all these years, I should have known him very well. But I found myself shocked at his words. And glad at the same time, for it was easier for me now to approach the argument. I would have said more, but I was crying again. And this time I was not ashamed. Holmes was there, holding me and gently rubbing my sore back, reassuring me with gentle words. We stayed like frozen in that moment for a while, then we had breakfast (that I promptly vomited a few hours later) and talked to Mrs. Hudson to arrange all the details for the departure. She was going to come with us.

We left London on Monday morning. The weather was wonderful. We took the 9:45 train and we arrived at our destination in the late afternoon. Mrs. Hudson was already at the cottage waiting for us. She was more than excited to go with us and insisted on leaving alone one day before to see that everything was fine.

As I said before, after we broke the news to her about my condition, she became more and more gentle with me and in some way with my friend, that stopped calling her “nanny” as he did before. I was, however, his favorite and she cooked for me with pleasure. She was afraid that the long trip by train would have tired me and insisted with Holmes about booking a first class wagon, so I could eventually take a nap if I would.

The dear lady didn’t know that he had already taken that decision some days before. Their attention towards me amazed me, but sometimes it was stressing, because I could not decide to go out for a walk alone if I wanted to, or if I was not hungry and didn’t eat with the usual appetite they immediately worried and insisted on asking questions about my health. I was affected by what physician call “swing mood”, and they always pardoned me if I was a little upset. 

We spent the trip on the train quietly talking. I eventually fell asleep after lunch in an awkward position and when Holmes woke me up my back was killing me. I didn’t say it to my friend, God knows I complained too much in the few months. I did my best to not show him, refusing his help when he made a move to carry both of our luggages and insisting that I was perfectly well. 

At the station we took a cab to the cottage, but we had to walk a short path in the woods to reach our destination. We were half way to the cottage when I stopped, unable to continue. The damn bag was so heavy and I could not carry it anymore. 

“Are you alright, Watson?” Holmes asked me, pretending not to be worry.

“I think so! Just give me a minute… “I answered him. 

“Let me take your luggage, please. No argument, this time!” he warned.

I did not reply. I was grateful for his help. We reached the cottage easily following the path in the wood. 

Mrs. Hudson was waiting for us at the main door. 

The cottage was like I had imagined it, small but very nice with its little wooden windows and its thatched roof contrasting with the white walls. I could not detect the surroundings because it was almost dark, but the whole place gave me a sense of peace and quiet. The inside was delicious; we entered in a small living room with two armchairs and a fireplace, a small table and some old furniture. The ceiling was low, painted in white and with wooden exposed beams, and so were the doors, in fact we had to pay attention to lower our head as we entered the kitchen, were the table was ready and waiting for us. I was too concentrated on the architecture of the cottage to notice that Mrs. Hudson was following me and asking me to give her my coat. I was just ravished by the atmosphere of that place. Then I felt a gentle hand on my arm and the voice of my dearest friend, who was calling me.

“John, please, stop walking around and give me your coat.” 

I did. But I was still entranced by the cottage. I was not paying attention to the chattering of my “guardians”. Holmes noticed it and took me by the elbow, forcing me to sit at the table.

“Holmes, this cottage is something beautiful. I have never seen one like that. It’s perfect!” I announced.

“Well, I have never been here before. But I like it too.”

“I love it!”

“We can explore the rest of the house later. Now, why don’t we eat something? You must be starving!”

“Did you deduce it from the gurgle of my stomach?”

“You are the doctor, I am the detective! Now, please, eat something or Mrs. Hudson will kill me. She thinks I am not able in taking care of you.”

“You both take care of me very well, Holmes.” I smiled at him.

“I am doing my best! Thank you!”

Eventually, we had our dinner and went to see the rest of the cottage, Mrs. Hudson had prepared the larger bedroom for us while she took the smaller one. Said that if we needed anything, we just had to call her. She was exquisite, as usual. 

She retired soon and left us in the living room. 

We didn’t need anything that night, we had exactly what we wanted, just ourselves.


	3. Chapter 3

“Feelings” 

I awoke the next morning at the sound of voices downstairs. It was a sunny day and birds were singing out of the window. The room was warm and dimly bright, for the curtains were still closed. I enjoyed the sensation of peace and quiet of the place, snuggling under the covers where I still could feel the heat of Holmes’ body. His scent filled the soft linen sheet. Breathing him, I remained in that warm and safe nest for some minutes, then got up and dressed. 

Descending the stairs, I accidentally heard part of a conversation between my friend and Mrs. Hudson. They were talking about me (that was amusing) and pretending to be quiet, thinking I was still asleep. I stopped and wait on the last flight of stairs, to hear something more. 

“Should I take him some breakfast upstairs, Mr. Holmes? The doctor deserves his sleep”

“If you don’t mind, if he doesn’t show up, I’d like to do take him something myself on a tray. But thank you for your advice, Mrs. Hudson.”

I couldn’t believe this was really happening. My friend, the most selfish man on earth, was accepting advices by the woman he used to call Nanny just because that didn’t please her, poor she.

But it seemed that, lately, their stormy relationship had changed into a more pacific one. The little creature who was growing inside me was already making miracles.

“Are you planning on taking him to town today?” the land-lady asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll ask him if he wants to, if he is not tired for the long trip we had yesterday.”

“You know, Mr. Holmes, I was wrong in judging you, after all. You take care of him very well. He is a lucky man.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. But I am not as good as you!” he replied. He cleared his throat, that admission should had cost him a lot, and to say it aloud even more. “Now, if you excuse me, I am going to see if the doctor is awake.” And he stood up from where he was seated to leave the room.

I didn’t want to be caught in the act of hearing, unseen, their conversation on purpose so I hurried down the stairs, but I failed the last steps (there was, I discovered later, a very smooth spot on one of the wooden board of the last steps and I had slipped on it) and landed with my backside on the floor, just outside the door where they were.   
Both Holmes and Mrs. Hudson hurried out of the sitting room, clearly worried.

“Watson, what happened? Are you alright?” the man asked me.

“I only have slipped on a smooth spot, Holmes, no need to worry.” I explained them, feeling ashamed of my awkwardness. 

“But in your condition… do you want me to call a doctor to check on you? Mrs. Hudson, please, would you mind…” 

“Holmes” I interrupted him sharply “there is no need, really, I am perfectly alright. And just to remember it to you, I am a doctor myself! I assure you, only my pride is wounded. Help me up, please!” I retorted, feeling a little upset at them.

Once I was on my feet again, I walked the few steps to the sitting room with my friend on my left and the land-lady on my right, both ready to catch me if had fallen again. That was really unnerving, but I tried to ignore them and did not show my state of mind. I sat at the small table and asked about breakfast. They still were looking at me with concern and I tried to lighten the atmosphere talking about the present day and what we could do. It took a while, but at the end I succeed in my purpose. Holmes resumed his usual mood and I was grateful for it. 

After breakfast, we decided to go for a walk in the surroundings, since when we arrived yesterday in the late afternoon it was already dark and we could not enjoy the beautiful sight that was now in front of us. I could also appreciate better the architecture of the cottage, that I liked very much. 

The cottage looked someway timeless, tidy and comfortable. The contrast between the white of the walls and the dark grey of the roof gave it a bucolic style. The garden that surrounded it was magnificent. There were bushes of lavender under every window of the ground floor, with many flowers already and bees all around them, making their characteristic buzzing and that was our natural background music. A green grass encircled the house, and there were paths made of stones in it: one led to the main door, while others led to different parts of the garden where there were funny wooden benches and tables, I supposed to have tea in the afternoon, if the weather allowed it.

The end of the property was delimited by giant bushes of hydrangea with pink and blue flowers. Here and there, there were little trees and in the far corner a beautiful oak. It seemed that both the house and the garden and the trees were born together to give life to this marvelous place. I was not used to live in the country, so I was particularly fascinated by the atmosphere of this place. I discovered in that occasion how much I loved flowers, for their colors were so vivid and they gave me a sense of peace and joy. 

The wood near the cottage, with the path we walked the night before, was beautiful too. I had always thought that wood were dark places, but I clearly was wrong because this one was enlighten and the sunshine rays seemed to fall from above the trees to the ground and the way the light filtered through the branch of trees was spectacular.

At some point, I turned to see where Holmes was and found him looking at me with a huge smile on his face. Did I do something to amuse him? I asked to myself, then I thought I was probably so lost in my contemplation to assume an expression he called of Ecstatic State. 

“Did I do that again?” I asked him, feeling my cheeks blushing.

“You were totally absorbed of this place. I have never seen you like this before. I bet this place likes you very much. I am glad of it!” he answered, not letting the smile fading away. 

“I find it so peaceful and the nature here is so very different from the London’s parks. You know that this morning I was awoken by the songs of the birds?”

“I feared it was me and Mrs. Hudson talking that woke you. I am happy to hear we did not disturb your sleep.” He watched me in amusement, he wanted to say something but he didn’t. 

“What is it, Holmes? Spill it out, I know you are going to say something, so just say it.”

“Me? You’re wrong , my dear Watson. I have nothing to confess. But you…”

“Me? Confess? I don’t know what are you talking about.” 

“So, let me help you. It is true that this morning you slipped on the smooth step because you were hurrying down the stairs?”

“Yes, it is true. I have already told you that.”

“But why were you hurrying? You ate very little at breakfast, so you were not so hungry.”

“I don’t know, Holmes, I did not notice I was hurrying.”

“Well, what I noticed is that your last steps were heavy, I deduced it from the little crack of the wooden boards. But the stair has sixteen steps, and I heard that sound just six times. Then you slipped on the last ones and you missed two of them. That makes eight steps of the last flight. Are you sure you have nothing to say?” he asked again.

I was growing frustrating, I knew where he wanted to go. But I would never have admit it in front of him.

“I have nothing to say. So what?” I stated.

“So I think you woke up this morning, you get dressed after having stayed some minutes under the covers and when you were on the first flight of the stairs you, oh not on purpose, I know that!, you heard my conversation with Mrs. Hudson. You stopped your descent because you were curious and amused, then I decided to leave the room and you had to hurry or I would have discovered you in the unpleasant act of spying our conversation. Am I correct?” he finally finished his dissertation and waited for my reply.

No no no I was not going to say him he was right. I pretended to be distracted by some flower on the path we were walking in.

“So, Watson, do I have to deduce that I was right, after all?” he asked again.

I do love this man! I thought. Even he is unnerving but I do love him! And I confessed. The frustration was gone.

“Yes, Holmes, you are right. I should have told you, I know, I just thought it was not necessary to point it out. I am sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, my dear. I am just displeased that you heard me behave in a such a goofy way with Mrs. Hudson.”

“Why do you say so? I am pleased to see that your relationship with her has improved to a civilized level.”

“Oh, well, lately I appreciate her for what she really is.”

“What she really is?”

“A mother hen, to you, always. She cooks for you, she worries for you, she went here alone to make sure you would be comfortable enough even if she was terrified to spend the night alone in the cottage near the wood.”

“I did not know it. I would have not let her come alone if I only knew…”

“I did not know either, I deduced it from the dark circles under her eyes yesterday afternoon, and the fact that she left early to go to bed… She did it for you, Watson.”

“I should go and tell her it was not necessary, otherwise she would think I am a insensitive man.”

“She would not admit it, so don’t embarrass her.”

“If you say so, Holmes!”

We walked for a short while in silence, then I broke the curtain of shame of feelings that often divided us and asked him a very direct question.

“Are you jealous of her, Holmes?”

He did not answer immediately, I suppose ha was searching the correct words to express his feelings. When he spoke, there was a kind and sweet voice in his tone he had only used once when I was feverish and delirious. 

“I would love to be the one and only to take care of you, John. But I am not good in this work. I need her help just as you. Most of the times, I can see things how they really are: Mrs. Hudson did not have any children, and so she transferred on you all her love and sympathy. And I am glad for it. But other times, I am jealous of her, because she knows things I do not , and she knows what do you need before you ask her. I know it is not rational, but that is how I feel.”

I had no other way to answer him but kissing him, and he kissed me in return. And we hold on each other. Eventually, we separated.

“I think we should come back, now” he said then. “We could have a nap and then I’d like you to see a small lake nearby.”

“I have slept for ten hours, Holmes, I don’t think I can sleep again. But I’d like to see the lake.”

“You’ll love it!”

We went back to the cottage, where we had a little lunch. And I slept, again. Then we went to see the lake. As he suggested, I simply loved it.

“You know, Holmes” I said him before sleep came to claim me again that evening “I really love this place and I enjoyed our day. I think I could stay here forever.”

He simply said “Good night, John!” but it was everything to me.


	4. Chapter 4

“Decisions” 

On the third day of our holiday, while we were having lunch in a café on the main square of the town, in front of the magnificent abbey, Holmes approached the burning issue we avoided these past days.

“Do you want to talk about it, John?” he asked with a casual tone, even if I knew he had been thinking for some time about what was the better way to introduce the subject and finally had decided for a direct question, without beating about the bush.

It was strange, I knew we had to take many decisions and we had to do it now, we should not wait any longer. The simple act of talking about things we had always known, but ignored, was the most clever way to go. But I felt, someway, that it was the end of a golden age, in which we (but Me, for the most part) were disconnected from reality. We (I) were living in a kind of limbo, we enjoyed the idea of becoming a family. We planned our life after the child’s birth in every detail: we thought about what kind of school he/she would have attended; I would have liked him/her becoming a physician, while Holmes would have preferred him/her being a chemist or a detective, nothing less. 

He thought, and I found that really amusing, that with the contribution of his deductive skills and my sensibility and kindness, he/she would have been the perfect inquirer. She would eventually get married and two old parents would have argued about who had the honor to take her down the aisle. It was a perfect world, without winter, without cold, without laws because there were no criminals, everybody was kind to other people, there were no wars and no illnesses.

But that was a dream and we (I) got lost in that dream; we lived these four months in a giant soap bubble and when the bubble exploded, all the plagues of this cruel world we live in, that we ignored on purpose, ruined the perfect scenario we had built. Because there would have been many difficulties and dark moments and I thought, just for a moment, that our decision to have a child was wrong after all, because he/she would have suffered the condition of having two fathers and, being related to Holmes, she would have lived in the constant danger of being the target to get to him, because she would have been his blind spot, even more than myself. 

God knows how many criminals he put behind bars in all those years and how many of them would willingly took revenge on him. So maybe we put her after our own happiness, after all. We didn’t think about the consequences of our actions. We used her to cradle a dream, and now the dream was turning out as a nightmare but she was already there, alive and breathing, inside me. And we had already passed the point of no return. She would take all the bad the world can give, she would suffer. And that was our fault. We were going to welcome to life a baby whose destiny was to suffer and grief.

As if he/she had guessed my feelings, I clearly felt her/him move inside me and that gave me a shiver.

I recalled the very first time we talked about becoming a family. We both wanted someone to love and to care. We wanted someone to live after our death, someone with our blood in the veins. We had no logical thoughts in that moments, we just wanted to be happy forever and a child to grow up was the perfect way to do it. How sad! We wanted to be perfect and 3 was the perfect number.

When we made love that night, knowing what our profound desire was, we did not just make love, it was something more than giving each other pleasure and comfort. It was the beginning of a new relationship. We were entangled together; we moved together at the rhythm of our physical instinct, up and down, fast and slow; we screamed together and again, from the beginning, since we lost in our scents and desires and we fell exhausted on the bed we shared for so many nights of passion; then we knew that there was so much more to share than love and desire for each other. 

Some weeks later I started to feel unwell. One day I was curl up on the sink, feeling sick. I had not told Holmes about my condition already, but then he was there, comforting me and handing me a cool cloth to refresh my face after the sickness had gone. Despite I was not in my best appeal, he gave me a huge smile and hugged me. He knew. I felt I was in paradise.

And now the paradise was collapsing on us.

I probably had displayed my fears someway, because his voice came a little concerned to my ears the second time he spoke.

“John, are you alright?”

I quickly wiped away a tear that was menacing to roll down my face, and thought about what to say. Should I told him about my previous thoughts? He would had probably said I was too sensitive and I did not have to worry. But should I lied to him? While he knew me so well to read me as an open book? I opted for the truth.

“I am quite alright, yes, I just had some bad feelings.”

“I know this is not pleasant for you, but let me tell you what I have been thinking. Can I?”

He was talking to me like I was a child, that was really unnerving, I didn’t need to be patronized. Get a grip, man! I silently shouted to myself. Take a deep breath and do what needs to be done.

“Of course you can.” I finally answered him.

“Very well. So, I thought about the whole situation…”

“I would not have used the term situation, considering whom you’re talking about!” I retorted immediately.

He casted me a warning glance, half annoyed and half concerned, and he resumed his talk. I had the feeling that would be a long speech. I was right.

“There are a few things we need to consider, at first: you will soon start to show your condition, it is not safe for you to stay in London. I considered the idea of pretending you’re ill, if someone shows up and wants to see you, while you hide in the bedroom, in that way we can stay in London for longer, but a illness that last two months is something strange, and why the Good Doctor has not been seen at his office for so long? People would talk and you know how the world goes. No, that was not the solution. Then I thought about Mycroft, he is the one (except for Mrs. Hudson) who knows we are engaged, he is a good man. I talked to him…”

“You talked to him? About me? Without asking me? I should have expected it from you!”

“… I talked to him and asked him if we could use his cottage for a holiday for some days. That is the reason for he is coming to us tomorrow afternoon. I wanted to inform him, if you agree with me, in that occasion, and also to ask his help.”

“I agree with you. Sorry if I got mad at you!” I managed to say. 

“Then the second consideration: you are a doctor, you did not need any help during these past months because you took care of yourself, as usual. But, tell me, in all honestly do you think you can do it when you will be on the last month? And when the baby will born and you will be in pain, I hope you don’t think I am going to help you to give birth to a creature? You will need a professional help, and here we goes. Where can we go?”

“I don’t know, Holmes, I have many colleagues who usually assist women in labor but I am not a woman. That would certainly make a slight difference to them!” I sadly affirmed.

“So, you see , Mycroft is our chance! I am sure he can find us a good doctor to help us. And you will give life to our beautiful creature without discomfort.” 

It seemed he had finished, since he crossed his arms on his chest, waiting for my reply.

I was relieved that he had already taken all decisions, at the same time I felt ashamed at my own blindness. If he had the time and the spirit to think about it, why did I not? And I called him selfish! While I was the one to blame. But he was right, as usual, his deductive skills had taken him to the right conclusions. We need a place to stay and we need a professional help. I just hoped Mycroft could really help us in both ways.

It was not so easy to express in words the whole range of sensations and thoughts I had in these moments, but he stood there and he needed an answer. Say it, John, it’s easy. Just say it and everything will be alright! But say what? Say that you trust him and you will do what he suggested. 

“John?”

“I think you are right. I really hope your brother can help us. Thank you, Holmes!”

“You’re welcome! Do you think you eat that?” he asked, pointing at some yellowish residual in my dish, resuming his usual mood.

“No, I don’t think so. Help yourself!”

“You know, since you’re appetite has diminished, I am gaining weight. I do always have to eat your remaining.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You know I dislike people who waste food.”

“End of the argument!”

“I wasn’t arguing, my dear.”

“Of course not, my mistake!”

“You see, Watson, your deductive skills are improving!”

“Holmes, shut up or I’ll put that horrible thing you are eating all over your face!”

“I’m sorry, old man, you can’t. There is no more left.”

“You’re really…”

We eventually went back to the cottage. I felt someway lighter after our conversation; I was a little nervous about our rendez-vous with Mycroft, but I had Holmes on my side and I was glad of it.

The following day we talked to Sherlock’s brother, who was marvelous, he was honored (his words) to be trusted and to help us. He suggested me to come to his cottage to spend the rest of the pregnancy. I thanked him, but I had things to do before leave, I should inform my patients of my temporary absence and Holmes too had to arrange things with Lestrade, so he would be able to stay with me all the time. He said it was necessary for him to have a pause from his work, for it was too dangerous for me to get involved accidentally in any cases he was working at. 

About the professional help part, Mycroft had a very good friend who lived in Bath, he said Dr. Sheppard (that was the man’s name) was very respectable and surely would help us. He assured us he would have talked to him personally, explaining him the situation. And after the child’s birth, he would have arranged things so that we could legally adopt her /him, pretending he/she to be an orphan. That was a lie, but a little lie for very good reasons. So we planned our departure from London for the end of next month, in that way both me and Sherlock and Mycroft would had had time to arrange things so to leave without complaints by anyone. Mrs. Hudson was going to stay with us, of course.

I was still feeling a little blue, however, for the thoughts I had the previous day. I sat on the bench in the garden, lost in my world, thinking I was only afraid and that I had to be stronger. Easy to say when you are living a daily hormonal storm! the little voice in head reminded me.

“I know what you are thinking!” Holmes’s voice came from beside me. I did not noticed him. For how long had he been there? I did not know.

“Don’t you think I had the same feelings? I know this is not a good world to live in, but it’s worth it to give it a try because of people like you and me… and Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson! Don’t be sad, my dear!”

Tears in my eyes, I shifted on the bench towards him and rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the salty taste of my own relief. 

“We are going to make it, right?” I asked him in a shaky way.

“We will make it. Together!” and he kissed my brow.


	5. Chapter 5

“Resolution”

2 a.m.

I woke up in the early hours of the night with an odd ache in my abdomen. The pain was coming and going , a kind of wave, and it increased with passing hours. At this point, it was 25-30 minutes between one wave and another and I knew it was time to call Holmes, things needed to be done and I could not make it without his support.

Our child was going to leave me. Not to leave in a definite way, that was certain, but SHE (I was so sure about the sex) would became Our child and she would not be with me all the time, inside me. I would not be able to feel her move in my belly, she would be “independent”. I was jealous about her. Of course, I loved Holmes very much and I knew he had every right to be part of her life, he would love her more than his life. We both would. But I would soon lose that particular relationship with the child, that physical connection that made me feel so happy and proud. I did not want things to change, however they had to and in a very short time.

I needed to wake up Holmes, even if I would not disturb his peaceful sleep. But the pain was becoming more and more persistent now and I could not suppress a moan as another wave of pain occurred. 

“Holmes, you need to wake up” I said, tugging his arm weakly.

“Mmmm…” was his reply.

“Holmes, I need your help. Please, wake up!” I insisted, this time with a more urgent tone in my voice.

“Is something wrong with the baby? Are you in pain?” was his sleepy but more alert reply.

“No, nothing is wrong. I think our child is going to birth.”

He was up and around in a flash. He didn’t either put his dressing gown on, but sat on the bed beside me and carefully lifted my shirt to put his hand on my abdomen.

“What was that, John? Was it what I think?”

“I think so”

“But it’s not time yet. You said it would have happened in two weeks or so. We are not prepared. We can’t do this now!”

He was clearly scared and I could not help but laugh at the idea of how strong and stubborn he pretended to be with other people, always hiding his fears and disguising his worries with his professional, calm and sometimes unnerving behavior. While he was simply human. I was grateful he did not put on the mask of rationality, for once, but I needed him to be calm because, at this point, I really wasn’t in any condition to discuss any subject with him. 

“Why are you laughing, Watson?” he asked in his agitated state.

“I am laughing at you, old chap. Please, don’t be so scared, I need you to calm down and help me here, do you understand?”

“I am not a doctor, we should call a doctor!”

“Not yet. Listen, Holmes, I know what I am talking about. Time between two consecutive contractions is about 25-30 minutes and they last 15-20 seconds each one. That means it will pass another day or so before the baby is born, but I am not sure. It depends on many factors and there is no way to know for certain when it will be. What you do have to do is send a telegram tomorrow morning to your brother, telling him we need him, and go to Dr. Sheppard’s home to tell him we need his assistance. In the mean time, we can do nothing but wait. But, please, now call Mrs. Hudson and tell her what I said to you. She should be prepared to assist Dr. Sheppard, in case the baby decides to birth in advance to my previsions.”

If Holmes had been scared when I started speaking, now he looked determined and controlled. 

“I am sorry, John. I am here to help, you can count on me!” the man said with a mixture of guilt and resolution in his voice. 

“I know. I do not want anyone instead of you now.”

I shifted in bed to find a more comfortable position when another contraction came and I gripped Holmes’ hand fiercely. I saw him wince in sympathy. That was closer than before. About 20 minutes, I calculated. The pain in my abdomen left me without breath. I could only whisper to my lover, again, to call Mrs. Hudson. 

“Does she know what to do?” Holmes asked in answer.

“Yes, she knows. Go, Holmes, please!” I pleaded him.

“Will you be alright?”

“It is not that she lives in Australia, it will take you two minutes or less. Go, I will be fine!” I reassured him.

“Alright, if you need me, just call my name.” He placed a gentle kiss on my lips and hurried out of the room.

He returned after some minutes with our landlady, who approached the situation with professional mood.

“How are you feeling, doctor?” she asked with a small voice.

“I am quite well, Mrs. Hudson. I do apologize if we woke you in the middle of the night, but we really need your help” and I displayed a little ashamed and shy smile to her. 

“There is no need to apologize, doctor. I am more than happy to help you and Mr. Holmes.” She replied, gently patting my hand. 

She took the control of the whole situation, while Holmes watched her in disbelief. 

“I am going to take some extra pillows to make you more comfortable. Do you prefer to sit up-right or half-down?”

“I don’t know. May be up- right…” 

It was wonderful to have someone around who knew how things needed to be done. I could now finally relax and allowed myself to close my eyes. Holmes was looking uncertain about what to do. He seemed ashamed of Mrs. Hudson’s professional care, who entered the room with the pillows, helped me to sit and supported me so I was resting with my back against a soft and fresh cloud of feathers. 

“Holmes, come here and sit next to me, please?”

“Of course, my dear.” He positioned himself on his side of the bed and took my hand in his. 

“Did I ever tell you, Watson, how much I am proud of you? You are a very special person, you are the best man I could have fallen in love with. And look what you are doing now! Do I really deserve you, John?”

“I could make you the same question, you know!”

“Are we arguing about who deserves who?” Holmes’ competitive spirit was coming back.

“Not at all, I only want you to hold me now.”

“That I can do!” and he placed his right arm on my shoulders and his left one on my belly, softly caressing the tender skin.

I eventually fell asleep a couple of times, to be awoken soon as the contractions came closer one to another.

At some point Holmes left my side to go to the post-office to send the telegram to Mycroft. He returned with Dr. Sheppard, who asked me the usual questions and checked on me. He decided, and I agreed with him, to wait for another day or so, because the contractions were close in time but not as close as they should be. But, assuming that this pregnancy was unique in his genre, he also wanted to make sure that the baby would not suffer.

As long as the hours passed, the pain increased and I would have taken something to ease the pain if I was sure it was not a danger for our soon to be born child. I found myself actually asking for some pain killer to my colleague, who smiled at me and reassured me that I was doing great and it was only a matter of time, but ignoring my request. I was vaguely aware of Holmes’ presence, holding my hand and letting me squeeze his mercifully when I was in pain, hushing me as best as he could with tender words or simply caressing me. I was sweating. I felt horrible. I tried to focus on my respiration, as Mrs. Hudson told me, and that helped a little. 

“Sorry” I whispered in Holmes direction, since my vision was a little blurred.

“Sorry for what, John?” he asked me with a little voice him too. 

“For seeing me like this.” I replied, avoiding his gaze.

“You are doing great, John, hold on.” He paused and added “I would never change place with anyone in this moment, remember my words Doctor John Watson. I am honored to be here with you. You and our baby, you are my life, I don’t care if you don’t pretend to be alright, as you usually do when you’re ill. Hold on me, everything will be alright.”

I could only manage a smile in his direction, then I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings, contractions coming closer than before, and I did not notice that both Holmes and Mrs. Hudson were hurrying in and out of the room to gather the supplies Dr. Sheppard needed to operate on me. I quite didn’t understand what was going to happen when Holmes assured me that I would be alright and I did not have to worry. The last thing I remembered was my friend taking my hand again and his words whispered in my ear: “I love you!”


	6. Chapter 6

“New life”

Holmes POV

Doctor Sheppard ordered me and Mrs. Hudson to take him the supplies he needed to operate on Watson. The poor man was awake but did not seem to pay much attention on us, he must be in great deal of pain and he looked exhausted. I tried to help him, holding his hand and offering words of comfort, that would not had made him feel better physically but at least he knew I was there for him. 

At some point the doctor checked on him and nodded to himself. He bent down and told him that he was going to anesthetize him. 

“Just try to relax and don’t worry about anything.” he added in a gentle and caring tone.

Watson did not fully comprehend the meaning of the doctor’s words, for he did not reply, his gaze still remaining confused and pained. 

“Thank you, doctor, I really appreciate it” I answered instead of him.

When the physician put a cloth soaked with chloroform on his mouth and nose , Watson made a little distressed sound but he relaxed soon and lost consciousness. I was glad of it, at least now he would not be in pain. That accomplished, Dr. Sheppard verified to have all the things he needed and then asked me to leave the room. I protested but he insisted. 

“Please, Mr. Holmes, you are too involved. Once the child is born, you can take care of him. For now, just leave me the hard work!” he stated and gently but firmly guided me out of the room.

Through the door I could hear him talking to Mrs. Hudson, who had remained with him to give him assistance (she was good at that, much more than me), but most of the time I could detect only silence. 

I tried to calm down, but found impossible to stay still so I started to pace nervously. After what seemed a very long time, the lady came out of the room but closed the door behind her. I tried to have a look of how things were doing with my friend, but she was too fast in the movement. I watched her in concern, she smiled at me and patted my arm.

“Don’t worry, dear. It is almost over!” she assured me.

And disappeared down the stairs with a bundle of dirty towels, to return shortly in time with a pile of fresh and clean ones. 

“Do you need any help in there?” I asked her, unsure if the answer I wanted to hear was a positive one. I knew myself very well to know that in my actual state I would not had been able to help or to do anything, I was just too nervous. 

“Try to relax, Mr. Holmes. I will call you when we are done.” And left me to wait, again, for what seemed ages. 

When I thought I could not handle the waiting anymore, I heard a small but vigorous cry from the bedroom followed shortly by a muffled sound of joy from the landlady. Or child was born. I would had liked to storm in the room but I knew the doctor had not finished his work yet, for now he had to take care of the brave and unconscious man who gave life to our baby. I sat in a chair, this time knowing it was really over and in a short time I would had had my child resting securely in my arms. 

Finally, the doctor came out and shook hands with me.

“Congratulation, Mr. Holmes. Come in here and see your child.” He said.

I was truly happy for the birth of the child, but I was also worried about my Watson, and the question came out of my mouth naturally.

“Is Watson alright?”

“Yes, the surgery went very well. He is resting right now. He should wake up in a couple of hours or so. I had to put some stitches on his abdomen, of course, and they are going to hurt a little. I will leave something for the pain if he asks for it. Make sure he stays in bed for at least two or three days, better if he lies down so the stitches will heal faster. He needs to recover his strength, so try not to stress him. I think he will be up and around in a week or so. I am going to stay here and wait for him to wake up, then I will check on him once a day, if you agree.”

“Thank you, doctor, thank you very much!” 

“Just doing my job, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again without hesitation.”

“You are a really good friend to us, thank you!”

He smiled at me in amusement, I should had been very pathetic in those moments but I did not care about it. I was just too happy and proud of my new family to think about what other people think of me.

Mrs. Hudson came closer to me holding a little bundle in her arms. She gently pressed the light weight in my arms, showing me how to hold it. “Careful with the head.” She warned me, but in a very caring tone and tears in her eyes. “You had a beautiful girl!” she added, and left the room.

Enveloped in a soft light pink warm towel there was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She was awake and watching me with curious blue eyes. Her body was so soft at touch and covered with wrinkles, like she had too much skin on her. Her little head was covered with s soft dark fluffy. She seemed so fragile.

I sat in the chair next to the bed where Watson was resting, holding her and caressing her with just one finger, probing her little body and feeling her react at my touch. She eventually gripped my finger in her little hand and assumed a clever expression, as if she had known I was his father. I was totally absorbed by her. After a while, she gave a small but cute yawn and fell asleep. I relaxed myself and waited for my friend to wake up, not moving my eyes form the child, afraid that if I had, she would had broken.

“Let me see her… ” Watson strained voice made me startle, and I carefully shifted on the chair to face him. Still holding her securely in my arms, I bent down so to let him see his child. He caressed her with exquisite care, but so softly she did not even stir at his touch. 

“She is beautiful. Let me hold her.” He asked then, trying to get up, but he stopped when the pain in his abdomen reminded him of the stitches the doctor had put on him.

“You should lie still.” I warned him. I carefully sat on the bed placing the sleeping child beside his father, in the centre of the bed, not wanting her to fall down. 

“I am going to call Doctor Sheppard to check on you. Will you be alright with her, just a few minutes?”

“Yes, we will be fine.” 

When I re-entered the room with the doctor, Watson was watching his daughter sleep and caressing her. He did not want to be separated by her and the doctor had to manoeuvred around her to determine that he was doing well, all considering. He advised him to take it easy the next two or three days and assured he was going to return the following morning.

“Thank you very much, Doctor!” I said to him, guiding him to the main door of the cottage.

“Take care of them, both. See you tomorrow.” And he left.

I went back upstairs and found the two persons I love most in this world sleeping side by side. I moved the chair on the other side of the bed, so to be able to see both the child and my lover clearly, and waited. For what and how long I did not know, I had lost my usual rational behavior, I was just pleased to see they both were alright.


	7. Chapter 7

“New dimension” 

The first sensation I had, after the doctor had anesthized me and I had lost consciousness, was the sound: little muffled sounds coming from near where I was laying of someone whispering funny onomatopoeic words, shortly followed by small chuckles of surprise or joy. Then came the smell: I recognized the scent of fresh towels with an undetectable residual of disinfectant. The touch came third: I was comfortably resting on a soft surface, my head too was slightly elevated on something fluffy like cotton and I had a wonderful sensation of warm. I was no longer in pain, the persistent pain I had experienced before, even if I was still dazed from the anesthesia. I tried to open my eyes but my eyelids were just too heavy and I had to gather my strength to succeed in that act.

At first, my vision was a little blurry, I shifted my head on the pillow towards the source of the sounds and a confused graying form came into focus. There, too concentrated on the little pink bundle he was firmly holding in his arms, was Sherlock Holmes, making an interesting variety of funny noises to amuse the little creature whom I knew was my daughter. He had not noticed I was awake. I tried to speak and found that my voice was just a whisper. I tried again, a little louder, not wanting to disturb the child, and this time he heard me, for he shifted on the chair he was sitting.

“Let me see her…” I asked him.

He did, still holding her in his strong arms. She was sleeping peacefully. She was beautiful, even if I could see very little of her, just her little face and a tiny hand, for she was enveloped in the soft towel. I wanted desperately to hold her, I asked Holmes and tried to get up but I had to give up, because when I did so I felt a odd pain in my abdomen, not like before anyway, and I immediately understood that the discomfort was caused by the stitches the doctor put on me. As Holmes suggested, I laid still. He carefully sat beside me and put the baby down, so she was in the centre of the big bed. In that way I was able to see her resting comfortably. 

Then Holmes leave and we were left alone, but soon returned with Doctor Sheppard, who wanted to make sure I was alright. He was going to come back tomorrow morning, he said, and I thought we were very lucky to have him, because I alone would had never been able to manage the whole situation. I was left alone again with the child, Homes was worried that I was too tired and that I needed to rest, that was true in fact, but I insisted for him to take the doctor to the main door downstairs so to have some minutes alone with the baby. Before leaving, he made sure we were both comfortable and that the child was not in danger to fall from the bed. 

When I knew I was alone, I allowed myself to cry at how beautiful she was and in that moment, looking her sleeping peacefully, I understood I would have done just everything for her, I would have given my life for her. I could not quite believe we were able to give life to this little miracle. Holding her, I felt I was going to fall asleep again, even if I would had loved to watch her all night, but my body was telling me otherwise. “Good night, Elizabeth! I love you!” I murmured in her little ear. I heard Holmes’ steps on the stairs and I allowed myself to close my eyes and get some sleep.

I spent the following days in bed, as Doctor Sheppard had suggested, and enjoyed the motherly care of both Mrs. Hudson and my Holmes. I slept a lot, and when I was awake I spent my time watching Ellie sleep or doing funny faces. Feeding her was difficult for me, because the stitches still hurt a little, and Holmes was afraid of not being able to do it when of course he would had done it perfectly but I did not put him under any pressure.

There was plenty of time to learn how to take care of her in every aspect of life. So Mrs. Hudson was more than happy to help us. I guess that was the moment the dear land lady understood that she would had become her “nanny” forever. Ellie was too little to comprehend who we were or anything else, she was simply watching around her and moving her little arms and legs up and down, but I was so proud of her. Heart of a father!

After three of four days I was able to get up and sit comfortably, without the risk to put out the stitches. After one week or so I was on my feet again. Holmes was more than kind to me, as usual, for he offered to do almost all the works that needed to be done with Ellie, if work was the right word in this case; we were both so enthusiastic of our new dimension to argue about who had to feed her, to wash her, and so on. Eventually, when she was sleeping or when we left her to Mrs. Hudson’s care, I and my lover talked and spent time together, because now we needed each other’s support more than ever. 

We received the last visit of Doctor Sheppard at the end of the third week of Ellie’s life. We had dinner together and then he checked on me and the child one last time, saying we were perfectly fine. He suggested to wait for another week or two before take her back to London, because the train trip was too long for her. We accepted his wise advice and arrange things with Mycroft for our return. He went to the Cottage on the last week of our stay and assured us everything had being taken care of.

Once back in London, we tried to resume our every day life, but it was not so easy because we had to find a new equilibrium, for Elizabeth had completely changed our life style. I had always thought that Holmes would had died with nothing to do, I mean if he had not criminals to search all around London or without putting a fight with some racketeer in a dark dirty alley and coming back home with bruises and cuts if not worse. 

But Ellie needed so much attentions and he simply was so busy with her to not notice that he was casting aside his detective career for her. I did the same, for the first 5 or 6 months, then, when she was more independent and we could leave her to Mrs. Hudson, I resumed my physician’s career at the consulting room with my patients: I wanted to assure her a good quality of life, after all, and doing my job was the only way I knew to do it. Holmes, on his side, became a sort of consultant for Scotland Yard, but he rarely went into a fight or put him in any dangerous situations.

 

One day, when Elizabeth was almost two years old, I came home in the early afternoon with a new book for her. She was very clever and she loved books. I was used to come home a little later, so she was not expecting me. I entered the main door and heard her little voice coming form the living room upstairs. She was teaching Holmes how to make tea, in her particular language. As I went up the stairs, I heard Holmes’ voice instructing her to hide. 

“We would joke dad a trick!” he said, making her laugh. “But you have to be silent! Do we have a deal?” 

“Ye’, da!” she answered. 

I carefully opened the door and, pretending not to see her, I said aloud: “Hello, Holmes! Did you see Ellie around? Mrs. Hudson said she was here but I cannot see her!”

“I am sorry, my dear, she is not here!” he answered, clearly winking at her, who was just behind me.

“I cannot imagine where she is!” and I started to call her. “She has disappeared!” 

She encircled my knees with her little arms, laughing, I pretended to be scared and that made her laughing just more. I took her by her waist and lifted her in the air, so she was looking me in the eyes and said, with a booming voice: “Don’t do that again, little girl, or the tickle monster will have you!”

“I’le no da’!” she answered still laughing.

I put her down and went to sit on the couch, she followed me with bright eyes and asked me to sit her beside me. She had seen the small colored package I had hidden behind my back and was watching me with a clever expression. “Mine!” she said, pointing to the gift I was now holding in front of me. Actually, Mine was one of the few words she could correctly spell. 

“I found it at the door. I don’t know if it is yours, maybe it is for Mr. Holmes.” I explained, teasing her.

“No, mine!” she repeated louder happily.

“Alright, alright, this is for you. Why don’t you ask Daddy to open it for you?” and I directed her to an amused Sherlock, who willingly took her in his arms and opened the gift, making a surprised sound when they discovered it was a little colored book of fairy tales. She watched Holmes and then me, with a huge smile on her face. 

“What do you say to dad, now, Ellie?” Holmes asked her in a very sweet voice.

“T’an’ ‘ou!”. She gave Holmes a kiss and then hurried to me.

“Da’ re’d fo’ Ei!” 

“Of course, my dear! Come here!” I made her sit on my knees and started to read. Holmes was watching us from his chair, enjoying the moment we had. At some point Ellie asked for him to seat beside us and so he did. That was one of the many magic moments we would cherish forever.

 

Personally, when I think of her, now that she is grown up, I still see her as the little three years old child, dressed in a brilliant little white sundress with black and blue lace details, soft tanned skin, cute fascinator with a white bow with black and blue lace rolled into a rose in the centre and bright blue eyes.


End file.
